Post by Pitch on Jan 1, 2013 20:26:07 GMT -5
Pitch
[/color][/font] 
" You can not kill fear. "
you say you're curious[/color]
CAN'T LEAVE A THING TO YOUR IMAGINATION[/font][/center]
AGE: Undetermined
GENDER: Male
SEXUALITY Straight
BIRTHDAY: Undetermined
CLASS: Civilian
TITLE/RANK: The "Boogeyman"
OCCUPATION: Not available.
ALIGNMENT: Evil
SPECIES: Embodiment of fear
MAGICAL POWERS:
Able to manipulate darkness and transform it into someones worst fear.
CANON/OC: Canon
TV SERIES: The movie "Rise Of The Guardians"
[/SIZE]
[/ul]
but oh, you seem so serious
[/color] I SHOULD ENJOY THE SWEET INTERROGATION[/font][/center]
HAIR: Black
WEIGHT: 150
HEIGHT: 6'0
PLAY-BY: Jude Law
GENERAL: Pitch is a shadowy lanky figure, who moves in darkness, hides in darkness, and thrives off of others fear. He has no intentions of good or kindness, and wants to watch the world suffer. hes been alone since the dawn of time and has never been able to escape his lonliness which leaves him bitter and angry.
ATTIRE:Black, usually an outfit created from the darkness and the shadows themselves, always changing, never stable, sometimes hugging his frame tightly, other times coiling around him like a long robe. [/SIZE]
[/ul]
i should not be telling you
[/color] I'M FLATTERED BY YOUR INTEREST[/font][/center]
Shadows
Darkness
Fear
Pain
Suffering
Tears
Trickery
DISLIKES:
Light
Happiness
Love
Joy
Friendship
Kindness
Family
STRENGTHS:
Night
Shadows
Darkness
Fear
Able to disappear into the shadows
WEAKNESSES:
Sunlight
Kindness
Bravery
Happiness
Useless with weaponry
QUIRKS/HABITS:
Has a tendency to only make himself known during the night or times when he has the upper hand. During the day his powers are considerably weakened which leaves him at quite a large disadvantage.
FEARS:
Being forgotten
Left alone
Sunlight
GOALS:
To make the world fear him once again.
PERSONALITYThere is a seductive air about Pitch, in the way he speaks, in the way he presents himself. Something mistakingly mystifying that draws many into a web of lies. He thrives off of others fears and flaws, drawing them into a false sense of security and praying on those disadvantages. His words have a tendency to twist peoples minds and draw them away from reality and into his own world of deceit.
Pitch is a very lonely soul and if perhaps someone had given him the time of day he would never have been so cruel and filled with hatred, but he was outcasted, shunned, because his powers resided over a world of fear and thus they feared him. Bitter and angry, his only desire is to make people suffer as he suffered. [/SIZE]
[/ul]
you start to hypnotize me
[/color] WHY SHOULD I TRUST YOU[/font][/center]
FATHER: Not available
SIBLINGS: Not available
OTHER: No
FAMILIAR/PET: He has a particular love for making wicked looking horses from the shadows, but no one really knows why.
PLACE OF BIRTH: Not available
CURRENT RESIDENCE: Wherever shadows lie.
WEAPONRY: None.
HISTORY:Pitch had once been a hero of the Golden Age, an ancient time when Constellations ruled the universe. His name in those days was General Kozmotis Pitchiner, and he had led the Golden Age Armies in capturing the Fearlings and Dream Pirates who plagued that era.
He had the duty then to keep the creatures of darkness confined in the prisons never to be set free into the world keeping the Guardians and everyone else safe. But as years passed he wavered. He just wanted to see his daughter, he carried a locket with a picture of her on his being at all times and glanced at it all the time when feeling pushed to his limits.
One day, the Fearlings played a trick on him after slowly draining him of the stoic man he once was. They mimicked his daughter asking for her father to help her escape the darkness, that she was scared, that he should open the door. Pitchner went into a trance and opened the door for them knowing his daughter wasn’t there. When they escaped, they devoured the general’s soul becoming a part of him, and from that moment on he hungered for the dreams of innocent children and was known simply as “Pitch.†He was determined to drain the good from dreams until they became nightmares—every last one of them—so that the children of Earth and then other worlds would live in terror. The Fearlings literally becoming a part of him made him go insane and forget everything about who he was before. He doesn’t recall his daughter, or the prison, or keeping everyone safe. All he knows is fear. [/SIZE]
[/ul]
who am i talking to
[/color] COULD BE A DEMON IN A MASK[/font][/center]
AGE: 18
EXPERIENCE: 7 or eight years? Somewhere in there
CONTACT: again skype or PM :3
MEMBER TITLE: King Of Nightmares
EXAMPLE:
Pitch watched the festival beneath him with twinkling eyes, lights, laughter, joy, and love, the emotions permeated the air like a dense disease and he crinkled his nose in disgust. Beside him stood a black stallion, barely flesh and bone with teeth gnashing the air as sharp as razors and yellow eyes to match his own soulless gold. Delicately he stroked the creatures mane, and it whinnied softly, appalled by the emotions almost as much as Pitch himself.
"So beautiful, so perfect, such a lovely festival so full of life and joy..." His tone was whimsical, light almost as though he wished to join them. "All its missing..." He cooed to the beast like a child, an old friend, or perhaps even a lover. "Is fear." The tone changed dramatically a venomous hiss from a striking cobra. The stallion reared up on its hind legs and a thousand more eyes gleamed through the forest, neighing, whinnying, pawing the earth. Pitch turned to face them, his pale features contorting in a hideous sneer.
"Teach them the meaning of fear." The horses thundered past him, descending on the celebration like a plague. The screams of terror echoed up from the winter solace like a symphony of the most exquisite torture. A smile curled at his pale lips and he laughed and he slunk back into the forest. "It died all to quickly and he released his hold on the shadows leaving the poor town shaken and trembling. He saw them as horses, great beasts of power and precision, but they saw the beasts as their worst nightmares come true. It was a beautiful thing this power and he intended every soul in this God forsaken land to know its nature.
"So beautiful, so perfect, such a lovely festival so full of life and joy..." His tone was whimsical, light almost as though he wished to join them. "All its missing..." He cooed to the beast like a child, an old friend, or perhaps even a lover. "Is fear." The tone changed dramatically a venomous hiss from a striking cobra. The stallion reared up on its hind legs and a thousand more eyes gleamed through the forest, neighing, whinnying, pawing the earth. Pitch turned to face them, his pale features contorting in a hideous sneer.
"Teach them the meaning of fear." The horses thundered past him, descending on the celebration like a plague. The screams of terror echoed up from the winter solace like a symphony of the most exquisite torture. A smile curled at his pale lips and he laughed and he slunk back into the forest. "It died all to quickly and he released his hold on the shadows leaving the poor town shaken and trembling. He saw them as horses, great beasts of power and precision, but they saw the beasts as their worst nightmares come true. It was a beautiful thing this power and he intended every soul in this God forsaken land to know its nature.
